


Been Eating

by moonwillow27458



Series: Disordered [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eating Disorders, Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, Gen, Grieving Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester Has Mental Health Issues, Sam Winchester Has an Eating Disorder, Worried Bobby Singer, Worried Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27963629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwillow27458/pseuds/moonwillow27458
Summary: When Dean comes back from the dead, Sam is ecstatic. He finally has his brother back, whoever it was that brought him back, but Dean keeps looking at him funny. And much to Sam's dismay, keeps asking if he's been eating while Dean was away.
Series: Disordered [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003455
Comments: 3
Kudos: 78





	Been Eating

**Author's Note:**

> The mentions of disorder behaviour are less graphic in this fic than they have been in the others in this series but, still a heavy trigger warning for that.
> 
> Also Ruby is mentioned briefly, but she is not a huge part.

Sam was laid on the bed when he heard a knock at the door.

He didn’t have any energy left in him. Never seemed to have any these days. But Ruby was kind enough to go grab the door for him. And she was arguing with whoever it was. And then the guy was pushing into the room.

Dean was pushing into the room. Dean, _it was Dean._

And even though Sam’s bones ached, even though the room was spinning as he stood. He had to go hug his brother. _Push through the sickness,_ didn’t have chance to collapse because Dean was there and holding him.

Everything went a hundred miles an hour, Ruby left and Dean was yelling at him for making a deal. _What deal?_ Because Christ, Sam had tried but no one was willing to bring Dean back from the dead. No matter how much Sam broke himself, he hadn’t managed to bring his brother back. And then Dean took a good look at him and decided that no, Sammy couldn’t have done it.

“Christ, Sam, you look like _shit_ ,” Dean said. Seemed angry as he was saying it.

And Sam was inclined to agree with him. He felt like shit. God, everything had been so shit. He couldn’t even think how long Dean had been gone for. Thinking made him dizzy, so he sat on the edge of the bed.

“You’re one to talk,” Sam replied half-heartedly.

“You didn’t just pull yourself out of a grave,” Dean snapped. “But you freaking look like it, Sammy.”

Bobby chimed in too, “yeah, son, how’ve you been?”

“I’m fine,” Sam insisted. Lied. Change the subject. “Are you, Dean? You just got topside again. Maybe- maybe we should figure out who brought you back.”

And that was the end of it. Until they were sat in the car again. Dean’s car, finally with Dean behind the wheel again. And it didn’t matter that he was making fun of Sam’s music choices, not when Sam had his brother back. He didn’t even mind when Dean hit him with the _how are you really doing?_

Because Sam was more than used to lying these days.

“You’ve been eating, haven’t you?” Dean asked. Eyes off the road, eyes on the side of Sam’s face.

“Of course, not like I could starve myself for months, is it?”

“That’s not- have you been eating enough?” He pushed. And Sam didn’t answer. “You’re all skin and bone, man. Tell me you’ve been eating enough.” He was practically begging, might as well have been down on his knees.

And what could Sam say to that? That he stopped eating the second Dean died, hoped that maybe if he was good enough, he’d get his brother back. That his life had been spiralling for months, before Dean even died, and he had no way to put himself back on track. And he didn’t want to eat. Because what if this was some hunger hallucination and Dean left him again.

“I’m eating, Dean, I promise. We can stop off for food if you really want.” He was cursing himself as he spoke but. Dean seemed satisfied. Told Sam to text Bobby and tell him they were stopping off at the nearest drive through.

Dean ate his burger in the car. Probably hungry after being stuck in Hell. Sam waited until they got back to Bobby’s.

Ate it in cold, miserable bites. Hated it.

Bobby and Dean got caught up in some folklore, and Sam took the opportunity. Absolved his sins into the toilet bowl, whispered three Hail Marys before he let himself get up again. Room spinning as he stood, but he was okay. He had be okay because he had his brother back.

But as he crept back to the study, he could hear his family talking.

“I’m worried about him, Bobby,” Dean was saying. “He looks sick, Christ knows what he’s been up to.”

“And you think I ain’t? I love you boys like you’re my own, I haven’t heard a damn thing from that boy for four months and now he looks- he looks like crap!”

“Before I went to, you know, Sam was,” and Sam heard his brother sigh. “Sam had anorexia. You know, the eating disorder. I don’t think he’s been eatin’, Bobby, I don’t- what if it’s gotten worse?”

“Only way we’ll know is if we ask him.”

And Sam had heard enough, rounded the doorframe so that Dean could see him.

“Ask me what?” He said, daring them to continue.

Apparently, Bobby didn't want to beat around the bush. “You been eating?” He asked.

“Not you too, Bobby, you saw me eat the burger, I’m fine.”

“Did you just go puke it up, Sammy?” Dean asked. And he knew. It was written all over his face. Sam had backed himself into a corner, had no fight left him. His hands were shaking.

Sam shrugged, took a seat on Bobby’s couch. It barely moved under him and Sam wondered how much weight he’d actually lost. Never had the energy to stand on the scales, but he felt better empty so he knew he was doing something right. Or maybe not right, because Dean and Bobby were looking at him like he had to heads.

“Sam, you gotta eat, man,” Dean said. So close to crying that Sam could hear it in his voice. “You’re gonna- you could die if you don’t.”

“I’m fine, De, I promise. It just, it gave me some control while you were gone.”

“Boy, you see that you ain’t in control, right? That this anorexia is controlling you?” Bobby was oh so gently, sat next to Sam and offered him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“I’m not anorexic,” Sam insisted. _I’m bulimic._ “I can’t explain it. And I’m fine, I’ll be fine. Dean’s back now so I can eat again and I’ll manage.”

“And you won’t throw up what you eat?” Dean asked. “Swear to me.”

“I swear, I’ll do better.” And it seemed to appease them, because Dean’s eyes suddenly dried up. And Bobby was coughing. They were both standing up and doing things again. Looking over lore books. And Sam sat there, vision swimming, couldn’t move.

_Liar, Sam, all you do is lie to Dean. He deserves a better brother than you._

But what was another white lie. Sam was already planning on how to get out of dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> Again, if you are struggling with issues like Sam's, please please reach out to someone. Eating disorsers are the deadliest mental illness, don't be afraid to ask for help.
> 
> If anyone is interested, I may add on a second chapter to this detailing what Sam was like when Dean was gone.
> 
> If you have any requests, send them over to my tumblr [benevolentsam](https://benevolentsam.tumblr.com)


End file.
